Enchanted Lake, near Los BaÑos, on the Pasig, fills an ancient crater and is an object of natural interest. Its enchantment, so far as is generally known, consists in the visits of Widow Velarde’s husband to its shores, and his occasional moonlight excursions over its waters in a boat that has the same pale green shine as himself. This Velarde was a fisherman and being somewhat of a gallant he had roused the mortal jealousy of his wife. In revenge for his supposed slights she engaged two of his friends to confer on her the joys of widowhood, which they agreed to do for a consideration. The amount promised was six dollars, but the preliminary negotiations appear to have been hasty, for when these worthies had earned the money, having held the unfortunate Velarde under the water until he ceased to bubble, the thrifty woman wanted them to accept three dollars apiece. They held stoutly for six dollars apiece. The widow would not pay it. There was a long and undignified wrangle,—disputes over funeral bills are often warranted, but are seldom seemly,—and it ended in the angry departure of the fishermen, without even their three dollars, to lodge a complaint against the Widow Velarde for cheating.

Now, would you suppose that two men, having just murdered a fellow-creature, would go to a magistrate to complain about the payment? These Filipinos did it. They went to a judge at Los BaÑos and tried to get an order for the woman’s arrest. The judge, fancying this must be a kind of joke peculiar to Luzon, said he would think over the matter, and he resumed his slumbers. In a day or two he learned that the men had really killed their companion, and had fallen out with the widow on the matter of terms. They meanwhile had learned that their act was contrary to white man’s law and had escaped, though it is said they were afterward caught and put to death. Perhaps it is the disquiet caused by the reflection that he was worth no more than six dollars that leads the extinguished husband to vex the scene of his demise.